One step too far
by Sandra S
Summary: Kershaw is musing about Clayton Webb. Set shortly after S10 Hail and Farewell II. COMPLETE
1. Part one

Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

- Langley, Virginia

"Do you need anything else besides coffee, Mister Kershaw?"

"No, thank you, Darcy, I'm fine. Have a good evening."

"You too, Mister Kershaw."

I watch briefly as my secretary is gently closing the door of my office and allow myself a small smile. Never underestimate the value of a good secretary - they are rare to find. Making coffee, keeping your appointment book up to date, blocking unnecessary phone calls or visitors and having aspirin ready whenever needed. Organizing and reminding you of anything important - sometimes including buying presents for you as I have to admit to my shame. And many, many other things. Yes, pearls like Darcy are hard to find.

Shoving these thoughts aside I look at my watch - past ten p.m. already - and then back down at the file in front of me. I press my lips together and bite back a sigh. I do not sigh. I do _NOT_ sigh. I'm in control. I'm the one who makes the rules others have to live with. The logical one. The planner. The manipulator. I have always been, will always be. It's in my blood. That's why I'm sitting on this chair. That's why I'm CIA. That's why I'm the one responsible.

I trace the edge of the brown folder with my index finger then open it in a quick decision. His photograph is right there on the first page. Showing him younger than he is now. Looking directly in the camera, almost challenging. One of those photos probably anybody has in some closet - safely locked away. Showing oneself young and fearless and ready to take on the whole world. Unfortunately the world isn't very fond of that sometimes. And despite my resolve the sigh escapes my lips.

What am I going to do with you Clayton Webb? What am I going to do?

Or maybe: What have I done?

Sitting back in my chair I take off my glasses and clean them with a tissue. The last one, that's a good question really. Maybe I've made a mistake. It seldom happens - at least I pride myself so - but I'm not infallible. Not at all. And this time another man paid my dues. Webb. Maybe I had wanted too much. Too fast. Too rough. Maybe it was my biggest mistake to send Webb out in the field ... the cold. Maybe I overestimated the man. Or underestimated the forces I allowed to pull on him. And God, the pressure we put him under was monstrous.

Despite what people might think Webb has never been a field operative from the start. Many of us aren't. Heck, _I_ have never been a field agent in the classic meaning. Undercover. Long time undercover - not just using a fake name for meeting a contact. Those people are necessary. They take most of the risk. But equally important are those planning a mission, patiently putting together tiny bits of facts and rumors to form the big picture, considering thousands of things which could go wrong, providing back-up and reacting to new information. Giving those outside a possibility to _ACT_ instead of just to _REACT_. Besides ... field operatives are normally ... expendable.

Again I trace a finger along the file on my desk and put my glasses back on. I don't give much about descent but even I have to admit that Webb's background is impressive. His father, Neville, was a good agent but right from the start I was intrigued by Porter Webb, the woman he married and who had worked as a code-breaker for the NSA. More than once the thought occurred to me that she would have gone far in the Agency. She could even sit on my chair now ... but it had been impossible. Not at that time. Women hadn't been considered as ... appropriate. It's a shame she sure would have had the brain. And the determination.

And Webb is a true son of his mother although he looks like his father. He has her wits, her sarcastic sense of humor. Her sharp tongue and independent mind. Might have something to do with the fact that Porter raised him almost alone because Neville was seldom around and then disappeared one day. Sometimes I wonder if we will ever know the whole truth about what happened. I have my doubts and maybe this way it's better for everybody no matter how hard it was - and is - for his family. Especially his wife.

I know Porter was opposed to her son's choice of work and nudged him gently towards the NSA when it became clear that he was doomed to follow in his father's footsteps. Well, Tim Fawkes did a good job on recruiting him to the Agency. Webb's skills had been too obvious to be wasted. Fawkes became Webb's mentor - in the way _WE_ use this word - and did a really good job there too. He was ordered to test our new purchase to full extend and he did.

As I turn the page I purse my lips. Despite the fact that Webb wasn't destined to be a field agent he spent most of his first time in the Agency outside of the States. It had to do with Fawkes' position at that time and it was an unusual but successful training for him. He learned some tough lessons back then. Hard lessons but he learned them well. Maybe better than I or anyone realized. And he started to show skills that predestined him to get the cover job in the State Department as our agent there had to be moved.

One intriguing thing about Clayton Webb was that he was prepared to do anything to get a job done. Literally: whatever it took. If it was necessary to crawl to some pompous jerk he crawled. Sometimes you would not have been surprised if he had left a wet trace. And the next moment - as soon as he had achieved whatever he wanted - he was able to get up, dust off his knees, straighten his tie and chew out a man twice his size, bringing the poor guy to the verge of tears. Oh, yes, his sarcasm has been his weapon ... and his shield.

Well, and above that he showed some really nice administrative talent. It enabled him to fill the 'cover job' of a Special Assistant to the Undersecretary of the State Department as a second full-time job. I guess State was rather pleased with the package they got. Of course the workload strained his time and stamina to the utmost but he never complained. He simply turned on the light in his office when it got dark outside ... except he had an appointment with his mother.

But what caught my eye most was his ability to see possibilities in situations - even in unexpected interventions of so-called experts - and to turn them to his own advantage. That's rare. As rare as a good secretary. His ego sometimes got in the way in the beginning but that happens and he learned quickly to take any opportunity he got. Whoever, whatever and however. In that point Webb had absolutely no shame. Sometimes the outcome was rather ... unusual but well, unpredictability is a constant in our line of work.

Yes, maybe that quality was most responsible for his quick rise in the Agency. His ability to persuade people into doing things, to find the right people to get a job done. To deal with their attitudes and spur them on no matter how, pushing their buttons ... hard. He himself wasn't multi-talented. He didn't need to be. I mean what are expert there for? Any kind of experts? But he was good, very good at coordinating things and considering any possible outcome before putting a plan in action ... as far as that's possible in intelligence business. It's not a science we _DO_ live of rumors and gossip and guessing even in our days. We can only try to be as thorough as possible.

My eyes fall on a special line and involuntarily I shake my head. Oh, yes, Clayton Webb was good at the planning part ... but he had to face some disasters too. The first place definitely takes that mess with the Declaration of Independence. But who on earth would have expected that some insane marines - our _OWN_ people - would raid the transport using a helicopter? Thank God, it all worked out after Webb involved the niece of the leader of those criminals. A major of the corps too, conveniently a JAG officer - it had been impossible to exclude JAG from the investigation.

Slowly I tap the page as I frown. That special incident caused the first contact between Webb and the Judge Advocate General Department of the Navy ... and Harmon Rabb, Jr. ... and Sarah Mackenzie. Sometimes it would really be an advantage to know the future. Well, on second thought it's better we didn't or some people - including myself - would have had a fit in advance considering the outcome over the next nine years. As I scan through the file I find more than one operation that was ruined by JAG interventions. And more than one embarrassing revelation for the Agency.

Nevertheless, as I flip back and forth through the pages right now I have to admit that the encounters with JAG were the exception - not the rule. And more important there had been only few intentional contacts from Webb's side. No doubt he used them for his own purposes when the opportunity occurred - as I said he's good at finding possibilities - and due to his field of work and JAG's duties it's no wonder there had been overlaps between them. But more often JAG - or better Rabb - had turned to him for help and information. Obviously the commander was good at using opportunities too.

But besides one case where Webb gave Rabb the job as an escort for Princess Alexandra - whatever had gotten into him to do that I will never understand; misplaced gratitude for something? - I can only come up with two missions he involved them directly and not by coincidence. It was the same year he was actually willing to sacrifice Rabb and Mackenzie in Russia while Rabb was on a crazy quest for his father. Well, of course, at that time Webb was acting more ruthless than his usual self. A kind of compensation for the fact that his mentor Fawkes had been kidnapped in Italy right in front of his eyes.

Involuntarily a second sigh escapes my lips. Heaven's yes, Webb pulled some rather crazy stunts to get Fawkes back. He almost destroyed his career. But I must admit his ability to persuade people into helping him was once more intriguing. I mean Admiral Chegwidden broke his nose in Russia and threatened to do it again if necessary. That man has such an appalling temper... A temper we were counting on when we informed him 'unofficially' about Webb's 'death' on that freighter in Baltimore some months earlier.

Hmm, I guess sometimes you simply have to try a problem from a different angle and that was one of those cases. My predecessor in this position noticed quickly that Webb's record had been manipulated so the teeth analysis identified one of the bodies as his ... a disturbing discovery. Webb himself had had neither possibility nor reason to do it. In fact he had no clue that he was officially 'dead' until he called his mother in an attempt to find a safe way to the Agency without alarming the mole ... or moles. Of course this demonstration of power was a great encouragement to him to hide even better. Well, pulling JAG headquarters in had the desired effect ... to plug our hole and make sure it was done thoroughly. After that incident it became clearer why Webb was so willing to put up with the annoying attitudes of these people: They _WERE_ good, just uncontrollable.

But maybe another factor was that he had found kindred spirits in them.

I fold my hands and rest my chin on them while I stare down at the file. Oh, yes, Webb's acquaintance with JAG headquarters in Falls Church and especially Harmon Rabb, Jr. definitely stimulated a special part of his personality. Despite his ruthless behavior or intentional lack of manners Webb never gave up an unusual independent and sometimes critical viewpoint on his work. Porter's influence? Her genes? Anyway, he was always very careful to consider an order and the facts and reasons around it before he threw all his restless energy into a mission. Oh, he never rejected a case that was given to him but it could happen that the result had nothing to do with what his superiors initially had in mind.

I just think of one incident when a case of friendly fire during a training mission let some of our people to believe in a Cuban infiltration. Through coincidence I was around when Webb got orders to have a look in it. Vividly I can remember his slightly raised brows as he commented dryly: "Cuba?" He was clearly having none of it. But I bet he had lots of fun jerking the Navy's chain including half of JAG headquarters' and SecNav Nelson's with his deadpan remarks on that ship.

This independency got Webb more than once into trouble - with or without JAG. Luckily for him, his successes had more weight and he got away with things that should have ended his career.

You can argue if that was the best course of action but it was definitely to our advantage. Webb really handled everything. After he had been ordered back from that job at State he was our man for messed up situations. Most of the time he coordinated things from Washington but still, we spared him nothing. And again he shouldered everything we threw at him including some really annoying administrative tasks like budget meetings etc. - an inevitable accompaniment to promotion I guess.

Until one day changed everything.

Webb didn't protest when we put him down in rank. He knew an assistant deputy director was able to do more things than a deputy director. Different things. Things ... that could be compromising for the Government. This is how it works in my world. We make our own rules and I believe in them. But sometimes late at night ... it can happen I look in the mirror and ... wonder. I just ... wonder.

Reaching out abruptly I grab the coffee pot and pour myself a fresh cup. I do not have doubts. I can't allow them. I can't afford them. It was Webb's first mistake to be shaken by some of the things he saw in Afghanistan. Or maybe it was my first mistake to put him there. Webb had very carefully stayed away from special things ... maybe he knew his limits better than I did.

Anyway, he was still on a rather safe level of field work but involved in rougher environments than before. And once more he didn't disappoint our expectations, masked his doubts - if he had them already at this point - and showed nothing but determination to do his best. But then he chose the worst time for another demonstration of his independence as he gave Rabb the Angel Shark videotape.

Damn Webb for his bad timing. He would have got away with it if it hadn't been so close to the Senate hearing about the Kabir incident that Watts was still running around with raised hair. Damn Watts for tempting Webb as he did by having him talk to Rabb - Webb has too much a history of need-to-know and uncertainty about fathers. Damn me for not having seen it coming.

There our second mistake happened: To not only send Webb to Suriname with a severe demotion but also to order the station chief to make it tough for him. Heck, Watts was angry, I was angry. We wanted to teach Webb a lesson he'd never forget and once and for all break his independence down to a bearable level. Unfortunately we pushed too far.

We pushed too far.

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Part two

Disclaimer: JAG belongs to DPB, Paramount, CBS et al. This is for fun, no copyright infringement is intended.

* * *

- Langley, Virginia

Suriname. Slowly I trace a finger over the page. Suriname, yes.

It was a simple form of brainwashing. Usually very effective. Whatever Webb did - he was told it was wrong. Whatever he concluded, planned, supervised - he was told it was wrong even if he knew it was right. We wanted to make his head spin, to throw him off balance and we were successful in it. I bet in the end he was completely at a loss.

He tried. It was obvious how much he tried and struggled to fight back. Of course he didn't stand a chance. We had too many possibilities. It took longer than expected - about six months - and that was a surprise considering the pressure we put on him. The pounding we gave him. But in the end he started to make mistakes. Not just small miscalculations. Real mistakes. Now we had a handle on him. That was the moment to build him back up. And that moment I made the next mistake: I chose Paraguay.

Removing my glasses again I pinch the bridge of my nose. Darn it, maybe I should start believing in bad signs. Middle or South America and Clayton Webb have always been a bad combination for some unknown reason. Guatemala. Colombia. Suriname. And now Paraguay.

I wasn't surprised that Webb turned to his old soul mates at JAG for help because we had effectively isolated him within the CIA and set sharp limitations on his resources for this mission. I wasn't even surprised that Rabb showed up in my office as everything went down the drain; I was only wrong about his motivation. But I had underestimated the impact of the leak in our office down there. I had underestimated Sadik Fahd's determination. I had underestimated the damage we had done to Webb's self-confidence so Colonel Mackenzie was able to persuade him into a useless rescue mission for this other marine ... Galindez.

In fact it was very convenient that Rabb was so eager to play hero. If Webb and his team had got killed we would have been able to blame the Navy-amateur for it. And it saved our resources. And if _HE_ got killed ... that happens. Unfortunately we had made another mistake: We had considered the possibility that Fahd could kill his hostages - what would have been a pity but oh well. We had not considered the possibility that Fahd could torture Webb for information.

I still feel a shiver down my spine whenever I think too closely about it. If Webb had broken down - it would have been a catastrophe. He had been a Deputy Director of the Agency, darn it. His security clearance was and still is one of the highest levels. He might have been six months out of the picture but just to think of his profound knowledge of our internal ways, codes, _NAMES_, plans ... and his ability to remember has always been amazing. The closest thing to a photographic memory I have ever seen.

Well, someone smiled down at us for a change. Webb didn't break under the torture and Rabb destroyed the missiles together with Mackenzie. We had a badly damaged but living Webb back ... plus an unexpected bonus. Harmon Rabb, Jr.

My glasses rattle on the table as I drop them. Oh, yes, the famous Harmon Rabb, Jr. I can barely keep myself from slamming my fist down as the memory puts up my blood pressure again.

Truly ironic: I guess Chegwidden was about to teach his golden boy a similar lesson to what we had just done to Webb. And I've got to admit that my ulterior motive for recruiting the at that time ex-commander was to annoy not only the Judge Advocate General but SecNav Sheffield too. Well, I reached my goal at high cost. The worst thing wasn't Rabb's inconvenient TV-appearance but the call I got from one of my special 'friends' going like: "Oh, so the Navy commercial is now working for you?"

Navy commercial? Navy commercial! A man whose face had been statewide on TV to enlist people into the Navy! And we gave him a job, allowed him to be seen with our undercover agents and even put him in the plane that is our best kept secret! By God, I was ready to wring some necks including Rabb's for not telling me but unfortunately - and to his immense luck - he was out of reach at that moment.

So I order Webb in my office instead and dressed him down. His first reaction was sincere surprise: "You didn't know that? I would have thought-" I did mention that Webb has a quick brain, didn't I? He wisely swallowed the rest of his sentence, put on a blank face and apologized for not pointing it out. I know what he wanted to say anyway: "I would have thought you checked his background." Darn it. As I did I discovered that Rabb had had more screen time in the past eight years than probably the SecNav himself. Any of them together.

Of course a lot of people were not pleased. I got rid of Rabb and some other agents as fast as possible ... fast enough to save my position but it was close. Nothing I want to repeat. To calm my nerves I take a sip of my coffee. Rabb is a solved problem and he will pay properly one day. My urgent task at the moment is Webb.

Webb, yes. I stared down at his file. Webb.

He healed. At least the wounds outside. He even sat through the necessary number of hours with the psychiatrist. And as soon as he got clearance from the doctors he threw himself back into work. I was pleased at first. We had our best horse back, the one we could put on a workload others would refuse to make a step. If Webb had worked long hours before he now worked like a lunatic. I even appreciated the complaints we got from our offices all over the world about his pace and manners and ruthless dismissal of lives. People had always complained about him and now he was trying to prove himself again - understandable after Suriname and Paraguay. He had done the same after Fawkes had been kidnapped. But ... there used to be an underlying trace of admiration in those complaints. It was missing now.

I don't know when I started to notice the signs. When I first realized the unexpected outcome of our 'treatment'. For years we had thrown everything at him and he took it. For months we had been jumping up and down on his self-confidence giving him no real chance to fight back. Taught him to do it _OUR_ way and not his. And Fahd took care of the physical part without knowing it. It had finally been too much; it _HAD_ to be. Something had got to give and it did - even the part I had expected.

I pick up my glasses and stare at them as they dangle from my hand. Funny. I had never realized that what I considered his weakest point - his independent analytic mind, sometimes even questioning company politics - had been his greatest advantage. The thing that gave him this special edge.

His track record had been so outstanding _BECAUSE_ he turned any fact twice, looked at it from all sides and then made his decision not only with his head but with his heart too. He believed in the things he did because he had considered anything connected with it, had come to terms with the necessary course of action and _THEN_ carried out what he thought to be the best solution - or the best compromise. He was never happy to sacrifice life or souls of people. But he did if it was necessary to avoid greater damage. He dealt with the inevitable guilt alone, took unconsciously full responsibility by shooing anybody away with his behavior. If there is someone to blame for decisions people tend to stop thinking about their own role in disasters.

And this - his ... his conscience - drove him to keep going during a mission, to consider new facts and even change his plans if new possibilities occurred. Or to accept advice or better insight from other people. For that reason Rabb was able to persuade Webb into doing seemingly crazy things - or in JAG terms: into doing the _RIGHT_ thing.

It wasn't there any more. This ... caring part of Webb's personality that had been so essential although hidden deeply in his character. Probably he hadn't known about it himself.

But after it got my attention it practically screamed at me. And the closer I looked the more obvious fine cracks in his armor of self-control and believe in his skills became. Covered with determination but there nevertheless. I was shocked to find out that he had even had a short trip into drinking problems. Thank God Porter and a close call in Pakistan fixed that problem. Webb might have been shaken to the bones inwardly but he had no death wish ... and he had seen the ugly end of too many agents through alcohol to risk the same. His mind was still working excellent - it was the emotional part that was missing.

Heaving my third sigh of this evening I shake my head. Although I was not exactly pleased with the turn of events I could have lived with it. It wasn't what I had wanted but Webb was still functioning and bringing results. He was still able to do his job. He handled things. Effectively. Without this spark of extra talent but he was still good. Just not that much better than many other operatives we have. And ironically he could have continued like that for years without knowing what had happened to him. Porter probably figured it out but there was little she could do without destroying her son.

But on top of all that Webb had entangled himself in this self-destructive love and relationship with Colonel Sarah Mackenzie. This woman sure has some serious problems of her own. Oh, she is playing it tough, handles a weapon well and held herself remarkably in Paraguay. A beautiful woman. When I recruited her to bring down Fahd she sure proved that she has the killer instinct. Unfortunately she is not able to deal with the fallout of her actions; a pity.

Slowly I put my glasses back on my nose and smooth my hair back. A pity, yes. Even more so after we found out that Webb was on the Hawk's hit list. Heck, I didn't bring that man back to lose him to some paid killer. It threw us all in hectic activity and I felt a bit uneasy that Webb agreed with nothing more than a shrug to the plan to fake his death. It was supposed to buy time for regrouping plus it would keep the people close to him out of the line of fire. Make them useless for the Hawk as long as they firmly believed in his death. Porter knew what was going on... She's a powerful woman and I didn't want to increase her wrath even further and tempt her to do something ... rash.

Unfortunately Tanveer led us all on. I bet he never stopped laughing up his sleeve at how easily he got Mackenzie to investigate for him. He just had to follow the woman to find anyone who had any knowledge of Webb's whereabouts. Maybe we should count ourselves lucky that only one person died in the process.

But it was impossible to warn Mackenzie and keep her in a feeble safety at the same time. A hint would only have heightened the danger she was in already ... and I guess Webb too was afraid of the possibilities if she was told that we suspected the man from MI6. Considering what she did with Fahd? What if she felt compelled to protect Webb again? This was a different situation; we would have had to charge her with murder - JAG is not above the law. And to deal with the new emotional fallout would have been no piece of cake.

It's probably a good example for Webb's state of mind that he risked some shots at Tanveer in a desperate attempt to save this woman. I guess I gave him too much time to think. To ... realize things. I'm just glad he missed him. We would have had to charge _HIM_ with murder - we are not above the law either; not in our own country.

Well, somehow it worked out in the end. Not to my satisfaction because we still don't know for sure who paid the Hawk for the kill but you can't have it all. We will deal with that in due time. Of course no one will touch Porter Webb. She shot Tanveer in a situation of obvious threat and has got three witnesses on her account. But what bothers me right now is the impact this whole thing had on Webb.

He's aware of it now. Maybe he doesn't know of _WHAT_ - but he is aware of ... something.

That Mackenzie has broken up with him is not helping. I was a bit stunned that she did. I mean she spent the past days running around and telling anybody who wanted to hear it - and anyone who didn't - that she was in love with him. Women. I'll never understand them.

Shaking my head I turn back to the first page of the file and stare at the photograph. No, Webb doesn't look like that at the moment. Not at all. I remember the look of confusion in his eyes as he asked me if there is no possibility to have them both, Mackenzie and his job. As he practically apologized that his feelings got in the way. It was a shock to me and not a pleasant one: Heck, he spoiled more than one mission because his conscience - or JAG - got in the way and he had never felt compelled to apologize for it ... not in earnest. I barely knew what to tell him without giving away too much.

I guess he really _IS_ in love with this woman ... he only lost his ability to act on it after ... us. It showed me that he is close but still doesn't know exactly what has happened to him. What we have done. He knows there's something wrong in his world, something important, he just can't put his finger on it ... but that's only a matter of time. The cracks in his personality I had noticed as fine lines are suddenly wide open.

For a moment I close my eyes and rest my head in my hands. This I hadn't wanted to do. I had put Webb through hell in more than one way, yes. I had him wadding through mud of all sorts. I had wanted to show him his place, to reduce his independent mind and if it made him more guidable in the process I would not have complained. Instead I destroyed the part of him that had made him so valuable and replaced it with the worst thing of all: Doubt. Doubt about himself, his work, maybe even his country - for sure about his employer. Deadly in our line of business.

Slowly I close the file. There's not much I can do now. The damage has been done. Webb's world - private and work-related - is turned upside down. I don't know if he's able to survive that. If his personality, his sense will be able to come out of it intact as soon as he realizes the full extent of his loss. The full extent of our manipulation. But any further intervention will make things worse.

I will put Webb behind a desk for some time. I've got to get him out of the line of fire anyway until this threat against his life is fully settled. I'll put him somewhere where he can't do much damage while he's trying to come to terms with himself. See what's coming out of it. See if he's able to pick up the pieces of his life and personality ... or not. Maybe Porter will be able to help him but I don't have much hope.

Sitting back in my chair I feel a small pang of regret that I quickly suppress. If we had been successful the result would have justified the means.

Now, all I can do is to sit and wait if time will be able to heal the invisible wounds we have inflicted. Or if we went one step too far.

* * *

The end.

* * *

Author's note: Originally I'm working on a different story at the moment but the idea of Kershaw's manipulation and now musing about it was too interesting to be wasted. Plus this is sort of an introduction to my main project although both stories can be read as stand-alones. Confused now? I hope not.

Thank you for the reviews.


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